


Out Into The Dark

by Isa_Iadel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, F/M, M/M, Romance, Rough Trade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:32:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isa_Iadel/pseuds/Isa_Iadel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his father is murdered by the Alliance for refusing to attach his name to the peace treaty, Stiles Stilinski is determined to find out exactly what happened, and bring his father’s body home so he can be buried beside his mother.  He has few leads after years of searching, but seems to be assembling a crew of misfits.<br/>This story is about characters from Teen Wolf in the Firefly Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Into The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Bad things happen in war. While the story doesn’t take place during war, most of the characters were directly involved in the war and discuss their memories/experiences 
> 
> I started writing this a while ago and posting it on Rough Trade for one of the NANO challenges. I somehow deleted a huge chunk of the story :( :( :( but some people asked so I'm going to post what I still have and hope I'm able to recreate what I lost
> 
> Do not reproduce

[ **Cast Collage** ](http://isa-iadel.tumblr.com/search/out+into+the+black)

**Part 1**

Captain Zdzisław Stilinski of the Firefly class ship Serenity lounged with his eyes closed, sprawled out in an old papasan chair, a scarred and unstrung fiddle resting against his stomach. Though it was no longer visible due to damage, when Stiles traced his fingers along the neck of the fiddle he could still feel out the inscription.

_For_ _Jędrzej_

_Love Klaudia_

He hummed a little to himself, fingers brushing against strings that were long gone. There was movement on the other side of the room, a brief flash of red hair, but Stiles didn’t look until Lydia Martin was standing directly beside him. “A hundred years, a hundred years,” he sang quietly.

“Stiles.”

Stiles sat up abruptly, placing the fiddle on the nearest bench. There was gentleness in her tone, a sorrow that wasn’t far from his own and it only made him feel worse. He took a moment to adjust his suspenders before slinging an arm around Lydia’s shoulders. She smiled a little as they moved towards the bridge, but took hold of his wrist and stopped him with a tug before he entered.

“Stiles…it’s okay if…”

“If what?”

“Hey,” she said firmly, but still kindly. “This is me. Don’t front.”

“It’s just another day, Lydia,” Stiles replied after a moment. “Three years later and my father’s birthday is just another day.”

Lydia sighed quietly, but said nothing as he moved into the bridge. The room was empty except for the pilot, and Scott McCall grinned when they both entered. “We’re cleared to land. Touch down in ten minutes.”

Stiles nodded, “Good. Lydia and I will handle the cargo transfer. Let’s try to get some passengers. Paying passengers, Scott,” Stiles said firmly. “With actual funds or equally valuable goods.”

“I know,” Scott said somewhat sullenly. “But come on, it’s not like the Shepherd doesn’t pull his weight. And Jackson pays for the shuttle for him and Danny.”

“The Shepherd is certainly a better cook than either of you,” Lydia remarked.

“And it’s real useful to have an extra set of hands when the engine goes on the fritz. Danny never minds helping me.”

“I haven’t got a problem with the Shepherd sticking around. He keeps his religiosity to himself and helps out where he can. And he always seems to set folks at ease with his innocent face and god fearing ways. As for Jackson and Danny…I got no quarrel with a man trying to make his way in the world. Having a registered Companion on board has done us more good than harm. But don’t go…”

“Don’t go what?” Scott asked after a moment.

“Don’t go getting too attached,” Stiles warned, his gaze landing on Lydia briefly. “Jackson’ll move on when his thirst to see the rest of the ‘verse is quenched. And Brother Isaac will likely settle down at the first community he finds desperate for some civilization. They aren’t crew, Scott. It’s just you, and me and Lydia. The rest are just people passing through.”

Scott sighed a little, “I know.” He straightened after a moment. “But speaking of the engine…” he trailed off.

Lydia laughed at his hopeful expression, “Make me a list, Scott, and I’ll make sure Stiles at least reads it this time.”

“I’ll do it right now real quick!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles grumbled. “Are you sure you’re a wolf and not some kind of raven? You seem to like shiny stuff an awful lot.”

Scott grinned, but turning his attention to his console when a series of beeps sounded. “And there’s our authorization.”

“Great,” Stiles called over his shoulder on his way out of the bridge. “See you in a couple of hours.” He retrieved the fiddle, ignoring Lydia’s attention, and carefully stowed it in his cabin before walking with her to the cargo hold. He didn’t look at her, but her gaze was like an itch between his shoulders and he couldn’t ignore her. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow and looked away from him long enough to check all of her weapons, a process that was surprisingly quick given the number of them she had hidden on her person. For a moment Stiles remembered her as a child, before the war, her hair in soft curls instead of pinned back, clothed in a dress instead of combat boots and a vest, and her cheeks dirtied with smudges from the chalk that was almost always smeared over her hands. Lydia stowed her final knife and Stiles grinned a little at the stains of black marker on her fingertips.

Somehow, despite everything, Lydia was still the same as she had always been.

“What are you grinning at?”

Stiles shook his head as the ramp lowered, “What is the likelihood that this is going to turn into a cluster fuck ending up with both of us in jail?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Insignificant.”

“How insignificant?”

Lydia strolled over to the nearest information terminal and spent less than a minute perusing it. Stiles paused a brief moment to grab the medium sized cardboard box on the floor at his feet before following her. “Are you planning to shoot anyone?”

“Not unless they shoot me first.”

“Well, barring you shooting anyone or exposing yourself in public…we should be fine.”

They dropped off the box to their client with no problems, except a brief lecture on the proper storing of luxury goods like chocolate from New Geneva. Lydia, Scott’s list in hand, dragged him to a few of the second hand shops to get equipment for the ship. They stopped to stock up on some other supplies, and returned to the ship to see that Scott had managed to secure some passengers.

“And here he is,” Scott said with an easy smile as Stiles approached. “This is our Captain, Stiles. Stiles, this is Laura and Derek Hale.”

Laura and Derek Hale were dressed well enough that they shouldn’t need to pay for passage on a old transport ship and it immediately made Stiles wary. They were obviously siblings, and werewolves, and while it was obvious neither of them was an omega, he couldn’t be positive that they were both betas. They had a rather lot of luggage between the pair of them, and Derek stood with his fingertips lightly resting on a large, bulky, square container.  

Stiles offered them a curt nod, “Ms. Hale. Mr. Hale.”

“Ms,” Laura repeated, smiling a little at the address, “What makes you think we aren’t married?”

“You have the same smile.”

Laura raised an eyebrow, her gaze landing briefly on her brother’s blatantly unsmiling face, before returning her attention to Stiles. “Well, my brother and I would like to catch a ride with your ship.”

“Stiles, they’re wolves,” Scott interjected.

“I know,” he replied with a shrug, “I got no problem with wolves on my ship.”

Scott hesitated briefly, “Laura is an Alpha.”

“I wanted to make sure that wouldn’t be a problem before we boarded,” Laura explained smoothly. “And I have no desire to make your pilot uncomfortable in his own territory.”

“You plan on trying to force your will on him?”

Derek bristled at the question, but Laura simply shook her head. “No.”

“Scott, you uncomfortable?”

Scott shook his head, “No. It’s fine for me.”

Stiles hesitated briefly, “And the Shepherd?”

“The Shepherd?” Laura asked.

“Yeah,” Scott replied, “We’ve got a member Inter-Planetary Church of the New Moons on board. But don’t worry about it. Brother Isaac is the most chilled out wolf I’ve ever met. It won’t be a problem.”

“Good,” Laura said after a final pause.

“Stiles,” Lydia called, “We have a thirty minute window to take off unless we want to wait another four hours.”

“Anyone else?” Stiles asked.

Scott nodded, “Yeah, one more guy. Called Mr. Daehler. He’s already on board.”

“Good.” Stiles waved two of his fingers at her thoughtlessly, “Scott, prepare for take off. Lydia, make sure the Shepherd, Jackson and Danny are ready to go.” Stiles turned back to the Hale siblings, “Can I help you with your belongings?”

“No,” Derek said firmly, taking a step forward. “You’d only slow us down.”

“Fine,” Stiles said curtly. “Let’s go then.”

Stiles left Lydia to supervise and moved around the ship to quickly check in with the others. He met the other passenger briefly in the common room, a man who introduced himself as Matt Daehler, before finding the Shepherd in the engine room with Danny. Both of them smiled at him, tearing their attention briefly away from the hydraulic controls.

“Brief stop,” the Shepherd commented.

“No rest for the wicked,” Stiles replied with a teasing smile to Brother Isaac. “Danny, you and Jackson set to take off?”

“We’re good,” Danny confirmed.

“As soon as I finish up this, I’ll start on dinner,” Isaac called.

“No rush!” Stiles replied, calling over his shoulder as he walked away, “But Lydia and I stopped by a market so there is fresh stuff.” He continued back through the common room and towards the bridge, stopping when he came across the Hale siblings.

“Everything stowed okay?”

“Yes,” Laura replied, “Thank you, Captain. Will we be able to access our things during the journey?”

“I’d prefer you weren’t wandering around the cargo hold alone. Lydia, Scott or I can escort you whenever you like.”

“Thank you,” Laura replied.

Stiles smiled, more polite than genuine, “Of course. Dinner should be in a couple of hours. You’ll hear a gong when it’s ready.”

Torn somewhere between tiredness and annoyance, Stiles tried to shrug off his unhappiness. It was just another day. He found Scott in the bridge and took the co-pilot chair as he want through his final pre-take off checklist. Scott kept his attention on his task until they’d broken atmo, but after that he set the course on autopilot and turned his attention to Stiles.

“Hey. You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he replied simply. “Othello? Chess? Hungry, Hungry Hippos?”

“Othello,” Stiles said after a moment. “I’ll go grab the board.”

Stiles remained holed up with Scott, playing Othello, until the scents of a fresh cooked meal reached them. Brother Isaac rung the gong not long later, and everyone assembled for dinner. Stiles planted himself between Lydia and Scott and did his best to eat without interacting with anyone. Matt, on the other hand, seemed determined to drag everyone into a conversation. Danny chatted with him out of politeness and both Isaac and Scott replied to questions posed directly to them. Neither Laura nor Derek seemed interested in chatting, though Laura at least seemed capable of smiling. Lydia was paying the least attention to the conversation, her focus more on her small notebook than the company or even the rarity of a fresh cooked meal.

“Now that isn’t something you see every day,” Matt remarked. “Paper, I mean.”

Lydia looked up briefly, “I find that the act of writing with a pen helps me think.”

“What are you writing about?”

Lydia hid her annoyance well, but Stiles had known her since they were small children. “Nothin. Just thoughts that catch my fancy.” Lydia placed her notebook in the pocket of her jacket and offered an entirely assumed self-deprecating smile, “Planet were I come from, girls don’t get much of an education after eight grade.”

Sympathy, and more than a little condescension, spread across Matt’s features, “You’re from one of the outer planets. Well, lucky that has changed since the Unification War.”

Nobody at the table moved for a long moment, and Stiles honestly couldn’t tell if Matt was unaware of the tension or intentionally trying to cause some. Scott had stilled with his fork halfway to his mouth. For a moment his eyes were bright blue, but Brother Isaac’s hand on his wrist calmed him. Lydia was too committed to the backwater persona she’d adopted to react. The Hale siblings, along with Danny, seemed deeply uncomfortable. Even Jackson had dropped his normal self-absorbed attitude to stare at Matt with discomfort.

But for Stiles, the comment was too much at the end of a day he’d spent trying to pretend that he wasn’t so wrapped up in grief over his father’s loss that at times it was difficult to function.

“Careful,” he cautioned icily. “Some here didn’t support Unification.”

“Oh?” Matt asked as he continued to eat, his tone only vaguely curious. “Can’t be that many. All the various Companion houses supported Unification,” he said, gestured to Jackson. “As did the assorted Core Wolf Packs,” he jerked his chin towards Laura and Derek. “And everyone knows that the Browncoats forcefully conscripted more than half their forces. They say the Sheriff set his most loyal forces out to threaten the mothers, wives and girl children of ever man on Hera to force them to join up instead of supporting Unification as they’d wished to.”

The reference to the Sheriff made his hands shake, but whatever reply he would have offered was cut off when Lydia viciously pinched his thigh under the table. Stiles caught her hand and held it for a brief moment, standing carefully only when he’d calmed.

“I’ll be on the bridge,” Stiles said shortly. The moment the door the common area was closed behind him, Stiles jogged towards the bridge. He dropped into the pilots seat and stared out at the darkness. It wasn’t as though he’d never heard that propaganda before, but stung fiercely.

Wary of his own mood and temper, Stiles remained on the bridge. It was quiet for a long while, until a hesitant knock came to the doorframe. Stiles leaned backwards to look upside down at the door, because neither Scott nor Lydia would bother to knock, and righted himself at the sight of Derek.

“Mr. Hale. How can I help you?”

Derek stepped fully into the bridge and offered him a plate of food. “Captain. You’d left before you finished. Lydia is escorting my sister to check on some of our things and Brother Isaac persuaded Scott to join him for mediation. I volunteered to bring you this.”

“Thank you.”

Derek passed the plate over to Stiles, “And it seems that I owe you something of an apology. I was…curt…with you earlier when you offered to help. I apologize. I’m not used to being out of our territory and I’m finding the experience somewhat stressful.”

“It’s fine.”

“You were a Browncoat?”

Stiles couldn’t help a brief laugh, “What gave me away? My reaction at dinner? Or perhaps this?” He tugged briefly on the lapels of his brown coat.

Derek shook his head, “No, actually. It was the salute you gave to Lydia right before we left planet.”

Stiles nodded, “Lydia and I served together.”

“I’m sorry that dinner was so unpleasant.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still sorry,” Derek said with a shrug. “There was no call for him to act like that.”

“Did you support Unification?” Stiles asked, more curious than concerned.

“I was at university during the war,” Derek admitted. “I got a deferment from service as a medical student.”

“You’re a Doctor?” Stiles asked in faint surprise.

“I’m a surgeon.”

“You seem very young to be a Doctor.”

Derek shrugged, a hint of color staining his cheeks, “You seem very young to be a ship’s Captain. But the truth is that I barely noticed the war. I was wrapped up in my studies and it… it didn’t affect my life at all. Maybe it would have been better if I had supported it…if I’d at least bothered to know what was going on around me. I was so wrapped up in my own shit, I barely even noticed we were at war. I imagine you might find that offensive…?”

“The war was a part of daily life for people on the Border planets, but it was different for those of you living in the core. It was removed… it didn’t really matter. You needn’t worry about offending me, Dr. Hale. In different circumstances, I might have been exactly the same.”

“You don’t… Derek is fine,” he corrected.

Stiles was quiet for a brief moment, “I was on Ariel when the war started.”

“On Ariel?” Derek asked in surprise.

“I was in University. My mother… my mother was from a Core planet before she married my father and her family had enough connections to get me into a good school. But when the war started, I went home. I wanted to join up, but my father was against it. He wanted me to stay on Shadow and help there, but my planet was one of the first the Alliance tested their cluster bombs on.” Stiles exhaled slowly, and despite that he rarely spoke about the war to anyone besides Lydia and occasionally Scott, he couldn’t seem to stop talking. “It started early in the morning.   I woke up because the house was shaking and the dogs were going nuts. We lived a bit further out from the main town, little place called Beacon Hills, than most because my father’s family were farmers. I had a perfect view of it… the first bomb fell on the schoolhouse and it was just gone… flattened into burning rubble. The whole town and ten more just like it on the planet were burned into nothing but ash. I joined the next day.”

“I didn’t… they say they never went after civilian targets. Only military ones,” Derek commented quietly.

Stiles shrugged, “Shadow isn’t big or important, it’s mostly just farm land, so there was never a concern that it would be a target. But the Sheriff himself is from Shadow. And it has… it had one of the more comprehensive medical facilities in the outer planets.”

“I didn’t know.”

“War’s over,” Stiles said after a long moment. “No use dwelling on the past.”

“Still,” Derek said quietly. “I’m sorry.” He was quiet for a moment before something behind Stiles caught his attention. “That’s…” He cleared his throat. “This isn’t my first time on a interplanetary transport, but I’ve never really taken the time to admire the view.”

“Something else, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Derek admitted quietly.

“Come on then,” Stiles suggested. “Sit down and keep me company for a while. I promise no more war stories.”

“I like the silence,” Derek admitted. “But if you got something to want to say, don’t keep quiet on my account.” Derek took the empty co-pilot seat and kept Stiles company, though neither of them spoke, until Scott came to relieve Stiles. Derek excused himself, and Stiles moved to head to his own bunk but Scott caught his wrist and tugged gently.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “He was the best man I ever knew. It doesn’t matter what lies other people make up.”

“Yeah.” Stiles exhaled slowly. “It’s just… I just wish…”

“I know,” Scott replied.

Stiles ran a hand over his face, “I never thought it was going to be easy…but I never imagined that it would take so long to put him to rest.”

“We’ll find him,” Scott promised. “You and me and Lydia. We’ll find him and bring him home to be beside your mother.”

Unable to speak at the feeling of tears blurring his vision, Stiles merely nodded. He took a moment before trying to speak again. “How long until that asshole Daehler gets off?”

Scott grinned, “He’s off at our first stop. Less than twenty four hours.”

“Thank fuck for that. And the Hales?”

“They’re with us all the way to Haven.”

“Alright.”

“Sorry I let that asshole on our ship,” Scott murmured.

“Don’t be,” Stiles said. “You couldn’t have known and we need the money. It’s just bad luck that it happened to be today.”

Stiles retried to his own bunk, staying awake long enough to read for a while before drifting off. The last thing he thought of before he slept was the expression of awe on Derek Hale’s face when he’d looked out into the ‘verse.

Stiles woke early and paused long enough to have a quick coffee before following the sounds of chatter to find Scott and Danny in the engine room.

“…for someone who has no training at all, you sure are good with machines.”

Danny laughed quietly at the compliment, “I like to be useful were I can.” He looked up from whatever he and Scott were doing when Stiles entered. “Morning, Captain.”

“Danny. Scott. Everything okay in here? Cause it looks a tad more, uh, chaotic than usual.”

“Everything is totally fine, Stiles,” Scott promised. “Just rearranging some things to get a better power output.”

“Okay then,” Stiles said. “Lydia on the bridge?”

Scott nodded, “She’s up there with Jackson. None of our passengers are up yet.” He waved vaguely, “I set up an alarm, so we’ll be notified when they leave their quarters.”

“Good to know.”

“Captain?” Danny called when Stiles turned to leave. “Look, about what Daehler was saying…”

“Jackson and I might not be bosom buddies,” Stiles replied. “Mostly on account of him being utterly incapable of being anything but a smarmy jackass, but a man’s got a right to his own opinions.”

Danny smiled, “And what he said about the Sheriff… everyone knows that’s just propaganda the military made up during the war.”

“Yeah,” Stiles managed.

“Did you know him?”

Stiles shoved his hands in his pocket, “Yeah. I knew him. I joined up because of him.”

“Me too,” Scott said after a moment. “Or at least I tried to. I had to get a special dispensation because of my asthma and that’s how I ended up working repair on one of the mobile stations.”

“Asthma?” Danny asked I surprise.

“I thought you knew,” Scott said. “I wasn’t born, I was turned.”

“Of course everyone has heard rumors of feral wolves on the border planets. People say that they live like monsters, wild and feral and violent…” Danny trailed off.

Scott shook his head, “Well there is some truth in that, but most of it is exaggeration. Only true monsters I ever saw were the Reavers,” he shivered briefly. “But I was bitten by an Alliance soldier during an attack on the station.”

Danny’s eyes widened in surprise, “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Scott shrugged, “It’s not exactly common, but I know a couple of others who were bitten during the war by Alliance werewolves who’d lost control on the battlefield.”

There was a brief buzzing sound, before Lydia’s voice sounded over the intercom in the engine room. “Scott, you seen Stiles? He’s not answering in his room.”

Stiles moved over to the intercom on the wall and pressed the button, “I’m here. What’s up?”

“You’d better get up here,” Lydia said, and though there was nothing in her tone to give her away, Stiles could still tell that she was nervous. “Scott too.”

“I got this,” Danny said when Scott hesitated briefly. “I can finish with the wires and wait until you get back to do anything else.”

“Thanks, man,” Scott said.

Lydia was waiting for them when they reached the bridge and at her signal Scott pulled the door shut behind. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone went on the cortex and flagged the nearest Alliance cruiser.”

Stiles tensed, “What was the message?”

“I cut most of it off…”

“But some got out?”

Lydia nodded, “Yeah.”

“What?”

“Verification of an arrest warrant,” she whispered. “Stiles, I think they found me.”

 


End file.
